


Nights downtown, it's a new town; But I keep thinking I see your face in the crowd

by CalmedByTheStorm



Series: Are we fading lovers? We keep wasting colors [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Kent Parson Needs a Hug, M/M, Rookie Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmedByTheStorm/pseuds/CalmedByTheStorm
Summary: That winter his mother and father took him and his sister Kat ice skating at Rockefeller center. His parents fought about the price of hot chocolate and his sister cried, but Kent remembers tuning everything out as soon as he set foot on the ice.It’d be cliche to say that the rest was history, because it wasn’t. The rest was hard fought, hard won, and made a lot of tough skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of canon typical drug use/ homophobia/ historical events.
> 
> Title from "New York City" by the chainsmokers

His sister is taller than him. Not by a lot and not if his hair is acting up, but she’s taller than him. It’s not like bothers him or anything, it’s just a fact of his life. He’s finding out that he’s counting on those honest to god truths more and more these days. Most people don’t just go from seeing their not-boyfriend on the bathroom floor one day seconds from death, and be the first round draft pick that evening, there’s no handbook to that. There’s no Chicken Soup for the Alone Gay Boy, but this morning, early on his first day of practice, Kent Parson really thinks there should be.

He gets to his first practice hours before he is supposed to arrive.

He's jittery, nervous, and afraid of expectations. Kent’s not modest by any standards It's not that he doesn't know how talented he is. It's that he knows that he shouldn't be there. He should be in Seattle, not Owen Grant. Owen Grant should be in Houston, and Jack should be the one complaining about the desert heat not in a hospital bed in a rehab facility.

He doesn't suit up fully, but skates out in jeans and his old jersey from the Q, with a bucket of pucks.

He gets through three rounds of emptying the bucket into the net before he even realizes he's being watched.

"Hey kid!" Aces captain, Wolfgang Länger, skates out to join him. "You still got three hours Til morning skate. You should be sleeping."

"I'm good cap, just getting out the nervous energy." He ducks his head.

"Do you speak German?"

"Da."

"Kid, we want you here, we're excited you're joining us. So get that in your head immediately.” He says switching over to German. It’s familiar, it reminds him of home.

Kent looks up to Wolfe and nods.

"Plus make the shots that you just made and there won't be any doubt, got it?"  
—

_The first time Kent picked up a hockey stick was when he was six years old. His mom took him and his sister to the park down the street and he wound up in a pickup game._

_His mother always described him as a kid who would bounce off walls if left alone, but as soon as he had picked up the hockey stick she said it was if he'd immediately calmed._

_That winter his mother and father took him and his sister Kat ice skating at Rockefeller center. His parents fought about the price of hot chocolate and his sister cried, but Kent remembers tuning everything out as soon as he set foot on the ice._  
_It’d be cliche to say that the rest was history, because it wasn’t. The rest was hard fought, hard won, and made a lot of tough skin._  
-

To say he plays well at the first day of training camp is an understatement.

He doesn't miss a shot, he's the fastest one on the ice, he's quiet, taking direction as it's given to him and following commands.

He knows a couple of the rookies also trying to make the team, either from the Q or just general knowledge of the world of hockey.

Two D-men Joshua Windley from Toronto, and Clark Wild, from Chicago, are clearly whispering about him, stealing glances in his direction as he takes off his gear.

“But what about Zimmermann? Do you think-”

“Possibly, but what if he was here?”

Kent learned to tune out bullshit years ago. It's not like he doesn't know who they're actually talking about.

Mikeal Hammer, aka Thor, walks by and racks his hand against their stall. "No gossiping, children," he commands. They look terrified. Thor's been an Ace since the Aces became a team. He wears the A proudly and with honor and uses his place to instill peace, which is almost hysterical if you've seen him on the ice.

He sits next to Kent and bumps shoulders. Starts mumbling about a scar he got on his hand his rookie season. Kent appreciates the gesture, lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and fist bumps the guy when he walks away.

He survives day one, it's almost more than he can ask for.

When they announce the final roster, with Kent’s name on it, he calls his sister in tears, because no matter the other shit going on, he was playing in the NHL.

**@KVP90: Where in Las Vegas can I get a good bagel? #askingforafriend**

He moved out of the hotel and in with Wolfe. His wife was kind, his kids estatic, and his dog loved Kent.

He missed his own family terribly.

It's not that his father had anger problems, it was that he couldn't catch a break. Having two kids back to back strained a family's budget, even before 9/11. Kent knew his father watched the south tower fall, but he didn't know how much it fucked him up until he enlisted in the army.

He had a duty, his father believed. He could serve and keep this country safe.

Kent just wanted his father to come home a different man than when he left.

His mother hated New York City, living there her whole life made her tired and cranky and sad. She saw so much pain in the city and couldn't help but take it upon herself.

With that being said, Kent bought her a house.

His sister had moved out of their apartment and into her dorm at Samwell University. She was in her own pre-season as the field hockey team prepared for their season. She seemed happy so Kent was happy.

Their mother had a brand new shiny house on Long Island. A kitchen she could cook for days in, and a short drive to the home their grandmother was in.

And Kent was across the country.

**@KVP90: @WolfeAces do you always trick rookies into babysitting for you? #Notfair**

—  
Owen Grant was a dick.

Their first game of the season is an away game against the Seattle Schooners.

Grant tried hard to beat Kent Parson. He had a similar build. Not too tall and not too big, but he was trained by big guys and played like big guys. Kent played small and let his speed do a lot of the talking.

The fact the Owen Grant knew about his history with Jack made the whole situation a lot worse.

—

_Kent’s first kiss was with Matthew Fitzgerald on the playground in the third grade._

_They both laughed and ran off enjoying the rest of their recess._

_He told his sister in hushed tones that night under the covers._

_"Daddy won't be happy" she whispered._

_"Daddy's never happy," he responded._

—

He's been pushed into the boards his entire life.

Most of the time it's just hockey, this time he knows it's personal.

The slurs off of Grants tongue as soon as Kent hits the glass. Wolfe comes over to check on him, but Kent just lets it rolls off his back, he has to.

Their shifts don't line up for most of the game, thankfully.

And when Kent scores his third goal of the night, he knows it doesn't matter that Owen Grant is a dick. Because he just had a hat trick in his NHL debut. And nobody can take that away from him.

  
**@KVP90: Good win, good team. Thanks for the chance @VegasAcesNHL.**  
**@VegasAcesNHL: Happy Rookie, Happy Team. Thanks for the goals @KVP90!**

His first year in the NHL when he gets chosen for the US Olympic Hockey team, he’s stunned.

The first thing he does when he arrives in Vancouver is get the rings tattooed across his ribs. It’s a landmark, one he never believed he’d make.

It’s at the gold medal match that he sees Bob Zimmermann for the first time since the hospital in Montreal. Kent runs into him outside the locker room, Bob’s proudly wearing a canada sweater and he looks older than Kent can remember him being.

“Kent, you look good.”

“Hey, Mr. Zimmermann,” he pauses.

Looking up at Bad Bob, Kent finally realizes just how much he lost the night before the draft

“You’re more of a father to me than my father ever was” he doesn’t say.

“You and Alicia helped show Katerina and me what love actually looks like.” he tries.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” is what he says.

Bad Bob Zimmermann had taken lots of hits throughout his life, but that sentence ranked pretty high on the list of most shocking.

“No, Kent, no this was…” he reaches out and puts his arm on Kent’s shoulder. “Kent.” He looks him in the eye. “Kent, what happened with Jack was absolutely none of your fault.”

Kent brushes aside that response, because he knows it’s false.

They talk briefly about the season, he receives some advice before heading into the locker room before the game.

Bob leaves with a “if you ever need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

They lose 3-2 but he’s an olympic silver medalist, and no one can take that away from him.

**@KVP90: okay cananda you win this round, still proud to be an american @usahockey**

Wolfe tells Kent that he’s going to retire at the end of the season. He's had his run, he helped make the Aces what they are, but he's done. What Kent learns and few others due is that his wife Karol is undergoing tests that may not end well.

Kent hasn't prayed in a while, but today he does.

—  
_Growing up the son of German immigrants wasn’t easy._

_Both his and Kat’s first language was German, he’s never been as good at languages as Kat, but he knows German._

_His grandma, Mildred, barely spoke english, but she spoke hockey. As long as she could she would bring little Kenny to his hockey practices. Straight off the LIRR in his catholic school uniform carrying a large bag with Margaret Conner’s brother’s old gear._

_Sunday was for mass, Saturday was for Hockey, and Monday through Friday was for waiting for the chance to play hockey again._  
_

He kept his head down, he played great hockey, and at the end of the season he helped carry his team to the Stanley Cup Finals.

They lose in five, Kat’s crying into his shoulder, his mother is beaming. It’s hard to read a loss as a win, but he looks back on that day now, and acknowledges it for what it was, a victory. A success of a season, and a success of a childhood dream.

The team begs off to get through the loss separately, Kent goes home with the Langer’s, his mom and sister in tow. They watch shitty movies on the couch for a weekend with either his sister or Wolfie’s twins falling asleep on his shoulder. 

Wolfe knocks on his door early one morning dressing in running gear.

“Get up,” he says. “We’re talking.”

They run in silence for a bit until Wolfie speaks up.

“You know we didn’t know who we were going to get with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“We hear stories from the Q, fast Kent Parson, partier Kent Parson, crazy Kent Parson. We didn’t expect what we got from you.”

Kent bites back the retort in his mouth, because he know Wolfie is going somewhere with this, he just doesn’t know where.

“You loved Zimmermann, yes?”

Kent stops as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

“What? No- we were the best of friends, he’s just-“

“Kenny, I hear the phone calls.”

-  
It’s only fair at this point to note the Kent Parson’s first season wasn’t as charmed as it was made to seem.

He was lonely.

His family on one side of the continent and Kenny alone, in a desert, trying to bring a stanley cup to a town who barely knows the rules of hockey.

He doesn’t drink through his misery, but he sure as hell tries. He can’t stomach hard alcohol, not anymore, not since his world came crashing down. He celebrates a good win, with maybe too many beers, and a corner of his eye always looking out for everyone, making sure no one else is washing down their pain, like he is. Because he’s barely 19, but he’s dealt with more shit than he’s needed to.

He calls Jack. A lot.

He’s not really proud of it, but he calls.

and calls.

And it’s all good and it’s all fine, but he’s a mess and he needs Jack to know, because Jack can fix it.  
_“Hey Jack, it’s me Kenny. Pre-season starts tomorrow. I’m staying with the captain, Langer, Wolfie, everyone calls him. You’d like him. But um, hey, I miss you. I don’t know what hockey is anymore without you on my line. So uh, call me back. See ya Zimms.”_

_“Hey Zimms, saw your dad in Vancouver. He says this isn’t my fault, and God Zimms if only he knew.”_

He knows Jack can fix this.

He’s sure of that.

He just needs him to call back.

-

“I never meant to, checked on my kids, and heard.” Wolfie continues.

“You loved him?” He asks.

“I did” Kent replies.

“Do you still?”

“Wouldn’t know.” He kicks the dirt on the road. “Haven’t talked to him in about a year.”

“He hasn’t… Kenny,” He steps closer. “I’m going to hug you know okay?”

“Okay” he mumbles into Wolfie’s shirt.

-  
The first time he kisses Jack it was almost an accident. They win in a shootout on Kent’s goal. It’s all adrenaline and emotion and he kisses Jack alone in a locker room.

The last time he did, was when he was trying to get air back into Jack’s lungs and get color into those lips.  
-

“We want you to have the C, kid”

“but-“

“Just listen, okay? You’re the future of this franchise and you belong here. No matter what else goes on in this stupid world we live in, you’re here, and this team has your back.”

**@VegasAcesNHL: Proud to announce @KVP90 as the third Captain in franchise history.**

**@KVP90: Okay @VegasAcesNHL let’s do this thing.**

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me on tumblr calmedbythestorm.tumblr.com


End file.
